Ralph Helfer (2 page)

“M
ORNING
, H
ERR
G
OBEL
.”

Josef always made it a point to stand in front of the elephant tent each morning as the owner passed by making his rounds. Herr Gobel’s short, fat frame and waddling walk always reminded Josef of a penguin.

“Good morning to you, Josef, and how is our little one doing this morning? Growing nicely, is she?”

Josef feared Herr Gobel. He was an old man set in his ways, and though Josef, like his father, had worked many years for the circus, he knew anything that happened out of the ordinary could change Gobel into a most intolerable person.

“The baby’s doing quite well, sir, as is Emma.” Then, as an afterthought, “I told the keepers to have the first fresh cutting of hay delivered to my farm directly from the fields. It will keep Emma in good rich milk.”

“That’s good thinking, Josef. It’s why I chose for you to care for my Emma during her pregnancy and rearing of the baby, huh!” Gobel put his arm around Josef. “There’ll be a few extra shekels in your pay envelope each week, unless of course a problem develops, yah, Josef?”

Josef flushed at Gobel’s condescending attitude. Afraid his anger might show, he lowered his head and turned toward the elephants.

“Now then, I’m off,” said Herr Gobel, patting his round belly. “The best to your wife and baby Bram.” Gobel turned and headed toward the big top, using his cane to strike at any papers or trash in his way.

Josef had plans to make Emma’s baby the best trained elephant the world had ever seen. If anyone could do it, he could. His whole family was circus, and the last three generations were all elephant trainers. They had handed down all their secrets and methods, and Josef, as inheritor of that knowledge, felt he had the capability to make her the greatest. Someday, when Bram was older and had learned all that Josef had to teach, she would be turned over to him, and he’d follow in his father’s footsteps.

Rarely has war, weather, or the economy prevented the circus from performing. “The Show Must Go On” became the word, better yet, the unwritten law, and rare was the day it wasn’t adhered to. The circus has been part of the human tradition for thousands of years.

When one is at the circus, the blazing colors of red and gold; the oom-pah-pah of the calliope; the pungent odor of the animals, cotton candy, hot buttered popcorn; the sideshow barker with his “Step right up, ladies and gentlemen,” all create a fantasy that can become real if one lets the youth within come out to play. The impossible becomes reality. Beyond the wonderment, the surprises and excitement cause a release of pent-up emotions. Time seems to stop. Troubles leave the mind. This is where romance begins. Young and old, in their own way, are swept up in this panacea of delight. The young sit amazed at the “torso” woman and marvel at the
arena acts, while the elderly wonder how she goes to the toilet and wait to see if the lions or tigers will attack their trainer.

The Wunderzircus was of average size, consisting of a performance tent, also known as the big top; a menagerie tent; six sideshow tents; half a dozen food stands; trucks and various trailers; and all the paraphernalia that encompass the making of a circus. Everything was painted in the customary striped bright gold and red with a touch of black and white for accent. The big top held three or four hundred people, including standing room, and was the largest tent in the circus. Four huge support poles ran in a row lengthwise down the middle of the tent. A circle of railroad ties formed the center ring. Within the circle, a thick layer of sawdust had been spread. Nearby lay sections of neatly stacked steel bars that later formed the big cat arena. One could see for miles the huge red letters printed across the top of the tent: WUNDERZIRCUS, and below in smaller print,
THE GREATEST SHOW IN THE WORLD.

The menagerie tent housed the animals, and though some had a natural hostility toward one another, they all seemed to share a mutual respect and compatibility.

The relationship between the trainers and animals was, to say the least, different from that in any other circus. The credit was Josef’s. Following in his father’s footsteps, he schooled each trainer in a unique style of training his family had developed many years ago.

Respected and admired by all, his way with animals was seen in the gentleness and love the animals and the trainers had for one another. He based his teaching on love, not fear. In fact, an enormous amount of love and patience, interlaced with eating, cleaning, and sometimes even sleeping together, bound them together affectionately. The animals were constantly being bathed, touched, and preened. There seemed to be no separation between the two-legged and the four-legged—but common sense was always practiced and never forgotten. The trainers knew that the animals, because of their wild heritage, had a potential for becoming dangerous.

Three elephants, two camels, three llamas, six goats, one bear, two tigers, one lion, three chimpanzees, and one very large python
were the extent of Wunderzircus collection. Other than the snake, all were trained to do their own routines, like jumping on, over, or under various pedestals and hoops, or riding on each other’s backs.

Karno had been a gift from a visiting Russian official. The hefty six-hundred-pound Russian brown bear was to have been used only for exhibition, as he had attacked his previous trainer and was not to be trusted. However, when Josef saw Karno, his experience told him that his aggression had been caused by fear training, a form of brutality. He put his old friend and seasoned trainer Himmel Theiss in charge, knowing Himmel had the love and patience to win Karno over from his days of torment. Once the major breakthrough of trust between the two was established, Karno’s desire to please, coupled with his high intelligence, had him performing many difficult acts, including, for the finale, a spirited dance step with Himmel. It was not unusual to find the two of them huddled together on the cold winter nights.

Luki, Helyn, and Baby Oscar, three chimps who were an actual family (Baby Oscar had been born last year), performed an old-fashioned slapstick routine, and their gaiety was the fun spot of the circus.

Equally loved was their trainer, Appelle, better known as Appelle the Clown. The chimps considered him a member of their family. Many times when Helyn didn’t get enough sleep because of little Oscar’s restlessness, she would pass the baby chimpanzee to him to care for while she caught a few winks.

Appelle was never seen out of his costume. Those around him never seemed to notice. The heavy creases in his hangdog face were filled with the colored greasepaint that accentuated the deep crevices in his face, but his face, always sad, deep-lined, and soulful, needed little makeup. He never smiled. The funniest situation left him with a steady glare as though he was considering it, and then he would simply turn away and busy himself with some duty or other. It was this unique way of looking at the world that caused the roar of laughter from the crowd. Those who knew him were never sure whether he felt he was funny or not. It was as though he
sensed the sadness in all things, and people, feeling self-conscious, laughed. A strange man to be associated with the most humorous animals of all.

Sultan and Patrina, two Bengal tigers, along with Leo the African lion, thrilled their audience, chilling them as they roared and snarled during their performance. Heinz Shmitz, the big cat trainer, never used a whip, gun, or chair in his act. The animals performed for him because they wanted to, not because they were forced to. Their rewards were a favorite tidbit, pats, hugs, and kisses.

Heinz also appeared as Hercules, the World’s Strongest Man, in the sideshow, lifting enormous weights and posing his glistening, rippling muscles for photos.

Josef and his elephants were the most beloved act of all. Emma, because of her size and intelligence, took the center position. To her left was Krono, a younger male bull elephant. To Emma’s right was Tina, a timid, smallish elephant who, try as she may, was always a step off or a beat ahead of the music. Their act consisted of sit-ups, graceful waltzes, hopping, skipping, and headstands. With the roll of the drums came the finale. Emma reared up, her trunk held in a triumphant arch. Tina and Krono would rear up on either side, placing their front feet on Emma’s shoulders. Finally Josef carefully climbed from his position on Emma’s neck to the top of her head, where he would stand, precariously balanced, hands held high. The applause was always thunderous.

Because of the recent delivery of Emma’s baby, the act had gone on without her until the day she could join the routine again.

A few small kiosks sold wiener schnitzels, popcorn, candy, and sodas. About twenty roustabouts tended to cleanup duties, moving animal wagons, feeding the animals, making repairs, and doing whatever miscellaneous work was necessary.

All members of the Wunderzircus family loved the circus; they looked out for one another and took pride in giving the public a great show. Four times a year the entire circus moved to a new location so people in other areas could enjoy their performances. During these times the hustle and bustle, although tough work, was
pure joy for them. The true sense of the circus could be felt everywhere, and throughout the countryside people were humming the oom-pah-pah of the calliope.

Winters were the most difficult. Cold and wet weather kept everybody indoors, and those were the days when word spread of impending disaster.

“Did you hear about old man Gobel? He’s dying, you know…yeah, selling the circus to some rich European.”

Sometimes the rumor was that the old man didn’t have any money and was selling the animals to pay his debts. None of the trainers owned his own animals, as the cost to buy and maintain them was beyond his means.

“What will become of us and the animals?”

These were the scariest of thoughts and affected all the trainers, but none so badly as Josef. The thought of Emma and her baby being sold, or, for that matter, any of his elephants being sold, was enough to set off his ulcers, but with the coming of each new spring, something would happen to right the situation.

Josef always knew what he would call the new baby elephant. As a small boy he remembered sitting on his own father’s lap by the fireplace, watching the smoke from Bram’s pipe swirl in the air, creating grotesque shapes and images. He listened to his father tell him a story he’d never forgotten, the story of a great elephant.

“This Indian elephant,” his father began, “was the biggest ever seen! Why, she must have weighed five tons, and stood twelve feet tall, yet she was gentle as a mouse. But,” his father said, “even though she had been known to pull, push, and carry more than any other elephant, the only thing that made her so famous was that she could perform her entire, intricate act without a trainer.”

“Without a trainer?” questioned young wide-eyed Josef. “That’s impossible! How did she know what to do? How could she remember in what order to put everything?”

“Well, son, this was no ordinary elephant. It is said that one in every ten thousand elephants is special…very special. They have
something happening in their heads. Something we humans wouldn’t understand, but they know the ways of Man.”

“What was her name, Father?” asked Josef.

Josef’s father put down the pipe and gazed into the crackling fire before them. “Modoc, son. Modoc—the greatest elephant that ever lived.”

Josef never forgot what his father had told him. He knew in his heart that his father had trained Modoc, and he felt his great sadness in the pain of remembering. Josef’s father never told him what happened to Modoc, but he believed that Emma’s baby was one of those special elephants. Down deep, Josef believed Modoc’s spirit still lived and was waiting to be reborn—to live again through Emma’s baby.

D
URING THE SLOW SEASON
C
URPO
was allowed to take care of things at the farm while Josef worked at the circus. A most unusual choice, the world’s largest land animal working with one of the smallest humans. The slightest wrong move of Emma’s leg, a misjudgment of space to lie down…but the elephants loved Curpo and judged their movements with great care. They seemed to treat him as their young. Josef had always liked Curpo. He knew the possible danger that Curpo’s smallness could bring, but he also knew that he could trust him, that he was a dependable man and above all someone who loved pachyderms.

Emma responded well and completely trusted him with her baby. She became accustomed to Curpo’s size, and if he got under foot, she would gently nudge him to one side. On one occasion, in a moment of impatience, Emma picked Curpo up, depositing him in a pile of loose hay.

“Such disrespect!” he yelled, brushing the hay from his clothes. Emma never hurt Curpo; it was as if she treated him as an equal, rather than a superior, and didn’t mind showing it.

Each morning after the sun sufficiently warmed up the valley, Curpo untied Emma’s leg chain, which bound her during the nighttime hours.

“Guten Morgen to both of you now. ’Tis a fine day, and perfect for our walk in the forest.”

Baby Modoc had taken a special liking to Curpo from the start. Shaking the straw from her bed, she squealed with delight, running around her mother’s legs, hooting with all her might. Picking up his bull hook, a device used to control and train elephants, Curpo led them out of the barn.

“Come down!” Curpo commanded in his best authoritative voice. Emma, always well disciplined, bent her hind feet into a crouch. Then, taking small steps until she was sphinxlike, she curled her trunk high in the air and allowed her tonnage gently to roll to the side. The punk stood obediently close to Emma’s head, occasionally touching the tip of her trunk to her mother’s tongue for security. While Emma’s eye watched from its unique position, Curpo, rolling up his sleeves, placed a push broom against her neck, threw a putty scraper, a large heavy sponge, and a penknife on her back. Emptying a bottle of hydrogen peroxide into the bucket, he attached a rope to it and threw the other end up on her back. Turning on the water from a nearby faucet, and armed with the hose, he climbed on Emma’s huge barrel foot. Straddling it, he issued a command of “Foot!” Emma quickly raised her foot, allowing Curpo to slide down her leg and belly.

Pulling up the broom and bucket of peroxide, he went to work with the hose, spraying and brushing the huge field of wrinkled skin. No crevice was overlooked. Her giant ear waved back and forth, almost knocking Curpo off her neck, but he hung on, cleaning and scrubbing.

Next came the scraper. Curpo dug and poked at each little cut, slit, abrasion, and insect bite. Pus, where present, was extracted. He
poured a small amount of peroxide into each wound, causing a thin vapor of heat to rise. Not an untreated spot existed when he was done. Curpo closely examined each toenail for any sign of breakage, tearing, or ingrown problems that he could report to Josef.

During these times Emma was in ecstasy. She loved the care and fussing and was anxious to have the program repeated on the other side. She was given hay, along with her morning treats of bread, apples, oranges, potatoes, and any other available fruit or vegetables. Topping it off was a five-gallon can of grain consisting of oats, barley, and molasses. Morning ended with her being led to an open vat of fresh water for her trunk to suck up or splash about, according to her wishes.

During Emma’s breakfast, Katrina would bring little Bram down so he could see and get used to elephants. From the beginning, Bram never had any fear of the giants. He looked forward each morning to the visit with great expressions of glee, exploding in giggles and laughter.

By noon, as the sun rose high overhead, Curpo would lower Emma into her sphinx position again. Leaning a tall thin ladder against her side, he’d climb up astride her neck, from where all elephants are controlled by their mahouts or trainers, and pull the ladder up after him. He sat on a woven rattan mat that was tied to her neck by a single strand of heavy rope. Since his legs were too short to straddle the neck, the mat helped stabilize him, as he could put his feet into the weave. From there, with the help of the bull hook, he could control her every move.

They moved out, one huge pachyderm, one very small person, and one very, very small elephant who ran to keep up with her mother. About a quarter of a mile up the dirt road, past the cattle-grazing gate, and through the lower meadow, was a strange forest. From early spring to late fall, a phenomenon took place that made this forest like no other in Germany. The ground covering was deep and pungent with the odor of many layers of thick hot swamp grass. Pockets of steam rose from beneath the surface from an underground hot spring that sent its bubbling fingers throughout
the forest. Much of the foliage was subtropical, lush and abundant. The junglelike trees were tall and massive, with ridges of roots above the ground. Thick vines with giant leaves encircled the trees, stretching their way to the top. This canopy of green covered a vast amount of the forest. Some vines found branches of nearby trees to arch across, knotting and hugging the small forest together with protective arms. This natural “tent” caused the humidity to rise, giving warmth. It was a place where all things could feel safe, and secure.

Little trails led through the thickets and crossed small meadows and glades full of ferns and brilliant green grass. These were Emma’s and Modoc’s favorite places. Curpo would turn them loose, Modoc to romp and play and explore the woods and Emma to eat the delicate greens at the forest edge.

It wasn’t long before, under Katrina’s watchful eye, Bram joined them. It was a beautiful morning; the warm breeze carried the scent of the forest and the caw of the mountain ravens. It was time. Katrina held Bram in her arms, speaking softly, reassuringly, as they approached baby Modoc.

This was an important moment, a beginning, for she knew the boy would spend his life with animals, especially elephants, and the meeting was of utmost importance. Neither the elephant nor the baby said a word. All was quiet as they looked at each other. Mo’s small trunk wormed its way up, reaching to the baby. As Bram leaned over, his little hand pulled loose from Katrina’s grasp, found its way down toward the trunk. A finger extended to meet the tip of the trunk. Bram’s expression was one of curiosity; he felt the wet tip, Modoc moved her “finger” all around Bram’s hand, sliding it across each finger and the palm. A big tickle grin spread across Bram’s face, Modoc did her elephant “chirp,” a tear glistened as it ran down Katrina’s face. All was well. The future had been written.

From then on, Bram regularly joined them in the forest, with his toddling little feet tripping and falling along with Modoc’s. They were each learning control of their bodies and minds. How to get
body and mind to work together at the same time, on the same problem, was a constant challenge.

In the middle of the forest was a glade unique among all others. Large in size, it sat in an area the canopy of the forest didn’t cover. Here the sun shone brightly and warmed thousands of flower blossoms. They were called God’s Blanket, and came in every color: vivid crimson, burnt orange, sky blue, milky white, dark purple, with additional hues found only in magic places.

Bram and Modoc loved the glade. Bram would stand in the middle of the field, arms outstretched, eyes closed, inhaling the wonderful fragrance. Modoc, in her own way, would mimic him, her ears out, eyes only partly shut so she could watch Bram, trunk in the air, sucking in the sweet smell. They romped through the field, hand in trunk, both stumbling, rolling, giggling, and squeaking in their own way. Mo would drop to her chest and, pushing with her hind feet, plow up a row of the field flowers, then toss the loose ones over her head, sending a shower of brilliant colors through the air.

The two babies loved to feed each other. Standing on a log, Bram would hold the jug of milk as Modoc slurped away. Modoc’s job was much easier; she could hold the baby bottle by wrapping her trunk around it and lowering it to Bram. Sometimes she would hold it out of reach and take a quick suck on it herself, until he started to cry or yelled for his mother. Then Modoc would hurriedly push it into Bram’s mouth, in fear of being found out. Occasionally, in her haste, she would stick it in his ear or nose, which caused a bit of upset.

As the years passed, the babies grew quickly, with Modoc maturing more rapidly than Bram. At five years of age, Bram was only four feet tall and weighed forty-five pounds. Modoc was five feet tall and weighed a thousand pounds. At ten, Bram was five feet tall and weighed seventy pounds, Mo was eight feet tall and weighed thirty-five hundred pounds, yet she was still as much a youngster as Bram.

Early mornings found Modoc rocking back and forth waiting for Bram to appear so they could have breakfast together before he left for school. The first thing Bram did upon his return was run to Mo, giving her hugs and kisses. Early on, Modoc developed a special way of showing Bram her affection. She would put her trunk over Bram’s shoulder and, snaking it around his waist, hold him tight, all the while making rumbling noises. It looked quite protective.

Modoc possessed a mischievous sense of humor. Sometimes while playing she would pick Bram up and walk off with him…all Bram’s yelling wouldn’t get her to release him. She usually found a soft spot to drop him, like a nearby grass field. After, she would cock her head, lock her ears forward, lower the tip of her trunk to the ground, and emit a low guttural sound that was her way of saying, “Just kidding.” Once, in an outrageously silly mood, she dumped him in a small stream, then ran as fast as she could, kicking up her heels and trumpeting all the way back to the barn.

Josef awoke one night to hear a loud cracking and breaking noise. He ran downstairs to find Modoc racing back and forth at the front door, trumpeting, and carrying on as though possessed. She had snapped her leg chain and crashed through one of the barn doors. He had never seen her act this way before. Why? Why at the front door to the house? His mind was racing. Bram! Josef flew upstairs to Bram’s bedroom. Bram was lying stretched out diagonally on the bed, delirious, bathed in a pool of sweat.

Gathering the boy up, Josef raced downstairs, yelling for Katrina to get the truck key and a blanket. Curpo had arrived and was running toward the truck as fast as his small legs could take him. The tip of Mo’s trunk traveled up and down Bram’s prostate body as she ran alongside Josef. Curpo had the truck door open as Josef laid Bram in Katrina’s lap, and she bundled blankets around him. Mo stuck her trunk through the open window trying to touch Bram, rumbling all the while.

“He’ll be okay, Mo. Now you just get back to the barn.”

Josef, trying to believe his own words, jumped into the driv
er’s seat and started the truck. It sped out of the driveway with Mo trumpeting and squealing, running after it. Curpo was waiting for Mo as she dragged herself up the driveway, exhausted and depressed. Mo didn’t understand what was happening; she sensed that something was wrong and that her best friend was gone. Head low, her body trembling, she followed Curpo back to the barn.

Bram remained in the hospital for two weeks recovering from his illness. A deadly virus had chosen him for its victim, and had it not been for his quick arrival at the hospital, he might not have recovered at all. Josef didn’t bother to tell the doctor about the strange occurrence of the psychic elephant alerting the family to Bram’s illness.

The day Bram left the hospital, Josef stopped at a local farm to let him pick out Mo’s choice of fruits and vegetables. Arriving home, Josef let Bram off at the barn, knowing he’d want to be alone with Modoc. Bram quietly opened the barn door and, walking on his toes, sneaked in, hoping to surprise her. As his eyes became accustomed to the half-darkness, he saw her standing with Emma. They were munching on a bale of hay.

“Mosie!” he yelled.

Modoc stopped mid-crunch. Throwing her ears forward, she blasted a trumpet that echoed throughout the barn. Bram ran to her, spilling half the food. She caught him with her trunk and held him in her special way. From her chest came her rumble of contentment. Bram wrapped his arms around her trunk and laid his head back against her chest. He knew that she had saved his life, and he loved her deeply for it. In the back of his mind, Bram wondered how she had known he was ill.

It was Sunday. This was the day Emma was going home to the circus. Although she’d been returning most weekends to perform, it was time she went back to stay.

“But this is her home,” Bram protested, “and what about Modoc? She’s never been away from her mother for any great length of time.”

Bram, Curpo, and Josef were busy preparing the truck and trailer to transport Emma.

“Mo will be fine, and besides,” said Curpo, “she’s got you. Why, I’ve never seen an elephant love anyone the way she loves you.”

“Okay, old girl, it’s time to go,” Josef said.

Emma caught him with a flap of an ear as he guided her into the trailer. A huge pile of bananas, apples, and bread awaited her enjoyment during the trip. Bram hugged his mother and Curpo goodbye, and away they went down the dirt road, onto the main highway headed toward Hasengrossck.

Bram loved riding in the big trucks, sitting up so high he could see for miles, the sound of the big engine roaring. His father sat in complete control, his strong hands holding the wheel firmly and keeping the truck steady. Each sharp turn in the road needed his experienced touch to counterbalance Emma’s rocking motion. Her three-ton body swaying to and fro rocked the trailer. If she swayed in the same direction while going around a sharp curve, well…Josef had to be careful.

“Someday you will take my place in the circus, as my father did before me!” yelled Josef, putting an affectionate arm around Bram.

Josef had been teaching his son to be an elephant trainer since the day he was born. Bram had always wanted to follow in his footsteps, but he saw how his father suffered. The thought of working for Wunderzircus sent a shiver racing across his shoulders. Old man Gobel was a very selfish and greedy man. Though his father was one of the most important people in the circus, the uncertainty of employment, low salary, trying to make ends meet, and the possible sale of his animals kept Josef in a state of depression. There was an underlying problem that Bram could not grasp. He just knew it had something to do with them being part Jewish. Bram secretly hoped that by the time he was old enough, the circus would have another owner. He feared old man Gobel as his father did, and blamed him for his father’s occasional illness that seemed to pop up whenever Gobel would threaten to close the circus. Bram wondered
if the old man would still be alive when he worked there. He quickly apologized to God for thinking such a bad thought.